Figuring It Out
by Eve Davidson
Summary: A story about Derek and his issues, a first person Derek story.


I knew what it was, I mean, what was going on. So I played basketball okay, no sweat. I got over having a cripple for a coach. I know that that's mean. I knew he was shot in that whole school shooting media feeding frenzy. But I didn't know him. He was like what? A junior? I was just a freshman. In the little pond that is the high school he was like some shark and I was just a scared guppy, or minnow, or something.

I mean, I understood this whole comedy relief thing, and it was funny, a lot of the time. Take J.T. with his whole penis pump fiasco. He gets it in his head that he can't compete with Craig, that he can't win Manny because he's not so, uh, well endowed. I mean, I knew it wasn't about that and I barely knew him or Manny or Craig.

I don't really know what I'm saying. I know I'm not the most gorgeous guy out there. I'm aware of my faults, believe me. I'm short, ugly, I say awkward things and at the wrong time. My sense of humor is lost on most people, except Danny. And there are vast parts of Danny's experience that I don't understand. You know, my best friend, and I don't get the whole minority thing.

Okay, then there was Emma, and that set up last year. Manny was back with Craig, which made sense, and Emma was alone. Manny wanted to help, so she got Craig to help, and through Jimmy they settled on me. See, Jimmy gets me, kind of like I get him, now. I know he's more than just the basketball star in a wheelchair, I know he has other things. Like I'm not just that short ugly kid that hangs out with Liberty's brother. He knows I'm smart, in my own way. Socially inept, yes. But that doesn't mean I don't have things to offer. Jimmy saw that.

The set up with Emma was a disaster. I don't know what's going on with that girl. She's a little superficial. Granted, we didn't have that much in common, or it didn't seem like we did. But Emma refused to go beyond the surface. With me, you've got to go beyond the surface. I'm not funny like J.T. was or brilliant like Toby is or tragic and good looking like Craig is or tough and cool like Sean or bad and cool like Jay. There's no easy definition for me. So it's fine if Emma wasn't willing to look beyond wrestling.

Then Rachel. Oh god. Did I actually think this girl liked me? Okay, maybe my low self esteem is showing but I mean, c'mon. Three years of high school and not one date except the Emma disaster which took three people to coordinate. Not one sideways glance, not one late night phone call, not one make-out session doing homework. Not one drunken night of sex after a birthday party. Nothing. So I think this funny, pretty, smart girl likes me? Was I high? Sniffing glue? What can explain my glaring lack of insight into a typical situation. Typical being where the girl in question in no way likes and/or is attracted to me in any way.

She liked Danny. And I was so goddamn jealous I couldn't see. So I ruined it for both of them and got Danny in a ton of trouble on top of it. I knew that racist lady was out to get him. I'm not that blind. So I made sure she got him. Peter was no help. Peter is no moral compass. That's part of why Peter was along instead of someone who might have a clue.

So here I am, alone. I hurt my best friend. I don't have a relationship with any girl, barely any friendships. Maybe it isn't them, maybe it's me. Something might be wrong with me. If my self esteem was a character from a movie it would be that freaky brother on Goonies, the one with the ears that stick out and the wall-eyes.

So that's where I am, pretty far from comic relief. Not too much seems funny anymore. I need to do some work. Apologize to Danny and mean it. Figure out what girls are looking for and try to do that more, or be that more. I'm not saying I have to totally change for them, but just that this isn't working. They aren't breaking down my door or even walking by it and glancing over.

Maybe by college I'll figure things out a little more. I'll figure out how to not sabotage my friends and how to talk to girls and how to…I don't know. Function. Exist in my space with a little more comfort. High school's pretty much a bust, but I've got a lot of time. Plenty of time. I'll figure it out.


End file.
